


Servant!Levi x Mistress!Reader: Flower Crowns

by SmexyLeviLover



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, smexylevilover aot snk levixreader levi x reader reader insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmexyLeviLover/pseuds/SmexyLeviLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mutt has learned well, I think to myself, as the gown and shawl slip off my shoulders sooner than he expected. He's surveying my body, judging the passion from last night from the marks on my body. </p><p>He's guilty of them.</p><p>"I still can't believe I found you in a dump," the words slip off my tongue in silence, as my body weaves around his like a snake dancing up bark. He's still as a stick though, and the lack of reaction is so disappointing that I just stop. </p><p>My wrists are suddenly caught as I'm shuffled back against the cold wall, my body rubbing against it in a tantalizing fashion. He knows exactly where it hurts the most, unfortunately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Servant!Levi x Mistress!Reader: Flower Crowns

Warning for unfitting music (optional): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgS1zjvCPF4

Between his thin lips, he carries a smile that could paint my cheeks red within seconds, and he's approaching me with that very same grin right now. I swear under my breath as my face flushes. In his tiny hands lays a flower crown of white roses, for me. He crowns my stunted self as his queen and unsheathes a long wooden stick to swear his loyalty to me. 

He gestures for me to hold out my palm, and when I hesitantly comply, he kisses the back of my hand. His touch is an icicle that freezes me to my core, and the blood in my face drains into the white roses of my crown. They burn red into my scalp. The sharp thorns are melting into my skin, and I awaken in a cold sweat. 

How many times must I be reminded that my childhood is over?

That kind of love is not meant for me, or rather, it's not possible. I've grown past the age of innocent love. I matured too fast, and at the golden age of 25, my heart has already begun to wilt. There's one person though who keeps me from decaying completely from the inside, and it would be good to find him now because the obsidian gown that's gently falling off my shoulders offers little warmth in the cold air that envelopes me. 

"L-Levi."

A shawl embraces my goosebump-covered skin, and I hiss lightly in pain as I step off the bed into the pair of thin slippers that are waiting by the side. 

My eyes attune to the light cascading from the window, and only sparkling dust obscures the path of vision to my dear servant, my tamed beast, who's standing by the side of the nightstand with a towel in hand for my bath. 

I could almost smirk with how perfect his morning routine has become. The mutt has learned well, I think to myself, as the gown and shawl slip off my shoulders sooner than he expected. He's surveying my body, judging the passion from last night from the marks on my body. 

He's guilty of them.

"I still can't believe I found you in a dump," the words slip off my tongue in silence, as my body weaves around his like a snake dancing up bark. He's still as a stick though, and the lack of reaction is so disappointing that I just stop. 

My wrists are suddenly caught as I'm shuffled back against the cold wall, my body rubbing against it in a tantalizing fashion. He knows exactly where it hurts the most, unfortunately. 

Icy breath vibrates in my ear. "If you don't fucking get ready, I won't buy your favorite ice cream from the store."

In truth, his threat has no effect on me, but I'll play the part of the fool. I can't let him know yet that I've lost my sense of taste for almost everything in this world. 

"My chunky chocolate frosted vanilla swirl fudge sundae?" I question. "You wouldn't _dare._ "

"Try me," he mocks. He throws the towel in my face and leaves the room. Fuck it, I scowl. He's still a disobedient mutt. Maybe I should have forced him to engage in some whip play with me last night, just to get some sweet satisfaction from watching pain wash over that handsome and oh-so irritating face. I would have perhaps even drawn blood, just a small amount, but now, I'm too scared to find out if the iron in his blood will lose its taste on my tongue as well. 

The bath washes away the sins of the night, the dirty and grime of sex sliding down my legs into the drain. And when I'm finished, I am escorted to the dining table and seated at the end of a twenty-seat Victorian Oak dining table. I am its sole occupant but not the only person in the room. I am joined by my servant, Levi, who's surely muttering curses under his breath for every slow bite I take. He's never been one for patience, given the busy day we have today. 

However, he doesn't understand just how bland this food is, just how tasteless life is becoming. Levi wouldn't know because he has constantly fought to live. 

The first time I ever saw him, I noted how his clothes were the dirtiest of all and yet his eyes were the brightest. And it wasn't something new to see passion in a man's eyes, but it was surely the first time I had acknowledged it. That day, like any other day, I had escaped from the mansion in secret. Quite a few years ago, my parents had been murdered, I had been told, and I was taken into hiding for protection. Since then and even now, I still reside in this old mansion belonging to the head master of our family, my grandfather who I have yet to meet in the twenty-five years of my existence. 

Visiting town was my only pleasure in my youth, the years of my young adult life. I was so innocent to the doings of commoners. I wanted to learn more about them. I wondered if they could teach me how they managed to make all the expressions they did -- the silly ones, the goofy ones, the sad ones, the happy ones. These people, though poor and inferior, they knew how to live.  

Now years after observation, I've come to a conclusion. Living desires a goal, a purpose. For my grandfather and perhaps my parents as well, that goal was money and creating an heir to their fortune. However, they failed to give that heir a purpose, so she's found an impossible purpose,

Love. 

Truly, if anything, the commoners taught me the meaning of "love at first sight." His skills were beautiful that day. The way he fought off the other hooligans who wanted nothing but his death, the way he struggled and wrestled and strived for life -- those feelings, though not of my own, pulsed in my arteries. When I laid my eyes upon him, I felt my heart beat for the first time. I desired him, so I made him mine the only way I knew how.

He chose to become my servant because I was his only choice to live.

I chose to become his mistress because--

_Clack._

I want love.

He's eyeing my half-full plate, the utensils placed at the side to indicate that I am done, and now, the soles of his shoes are tapping their way here to scold me. The closing distance doesn't bother me though. I have something important to tell him. 

There's one regret I have though, before I inform him of my decision. 

I've never been to his bedroom. 

Truthfully, as his mistress, I think I treat him fairly. His freedoms are few, but the one freedom I will never impinge upon is his bedroom, to which I've never been invited, to which I wish I could enter. I want to take this small independence away. I want to see what he hides, though I'm sure the only object of any significance is the photo frame of his two late friends. He's mentioned them, during a long rainy night. Maybe he found comfort in me that one moment. Maybe that's when I started slipping. 

I have to hide the way I look at him. I can't show him these gazes of love, not if I can't be sure he'll return the same feelings. That pulse that he ignited, it's slowly drifting. I'm scared it might disappear completely. I fear it already has. 

Love is what I cherish, and yet, there's no one in this world who needs me. Levi wouldn't need me if he was in my position. He has the strength to live on as he's been doing. 

I don't. 

"Levi," I say his name in a way that makes him halt at my side. I suppose he was about to lecture me but now seems intent on listening. "I placed you on my will. If I die, you will receive all that I own."

His eyes darken. He thinks I'm teasing him. "What shit are you getting at?"

"If I die, you can finally leave this mansion. You can start over with life. You'll be free of me," I explain, ending my sentence with the last and perhaps only genuine smile I might give him. It's painful, but being alone, truly alone, where no one in this world values your life for anything other than monetary payment, is much more painful. 

Silence engulfs us both for a moment. Levi is studying my eyes, looking for the trademarks of a lie, but I know he won't be successful. It's yours, I want to tell him. Everything I own is yours. And if you would accept it, even my heart can be yours. 

But alas, these words remain unsaid. The doors of the dining hall burst open, the intruder raising a gun from the other end of the table. As expected, Levi is swift to react. The gun is already in his gloved hands, hands that I suddenly wish could hold me again instead. 

As I stare at the gun in his hand, I wonder, should I be happy? No, I shouldn't misunderstand. Instinct -- that's what Levi has relied upon to survive. Right now, I've thrown a bone in front of a dog. Of course, he'll lunge for it, but I need to remind him. 

"If I die...," I whisper, a grim smirk teasing at my lips. The chair I was seated in drags across the wooden floor as I stand to improve the shooter's accuracy. 

Levi's face is shocked. He doesn't understand, just like I thought. His steel gun is still pointed at the intruder, but I wonder if his grip is slipping as he processes my words. Will he choose my life or his own?

Wondering won't do me any good, so I close my eyes and wait. 

"I don't need this world if no one needs me," I whisper, as I crumple a small note in my hand.

_Levi, will you lay me down in a bed of white roses?_

.

.

.

_Bang._


End file.
